


Where Do We Draw the Line

by skeleton_twins



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8406418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeleton_twins/pseuds/skeleton_twins
Summary: “I’m sure your little boyfriend is just laying low until we catch his newest rival. Why would Penguin try to go head to head with this new guy when the cops are just going to end up arresting him...waste of manpower or whatever.”Another newcomer has come to Gotham, challenging Penguin’s spot on the throne and Jim Gordon finds himself worrying about the mobster when weeks go by without hearing from him. Penguin's acting strange and Jim plans to get to the bottom of it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first gobblepot fanfic! I'm a little nervous about this but I hope everyone enjoys the story and of course thank you for reading it!
> 
> I cannot even begin to describe how grateful I am to thekeyholder for not only betaing and helping me titled this story but encouraging me to start writing again!

There was something up with Penguin. Jim couldn’t exactly put his finger on it, and he sure as hell didn’t have any evidence that could back up his theory - not hard enough evidence that wouldn’t get shrugged at or dismissed immediately by his partner.

 

But Jim knew something was off with the raven-haired gangster. It had been several weeks since his last encounter with Cobblepot. That itself was odd enough. Although Jim tried to avoid it at all cost, one way or another he usually ended up at the front steps of Penguin’s nightclub, either due to Jim needing help with a case or Penguin paying Gordon a visit just because.

 

Of course he knew it wasn’t _just because_. He wasn’t oblivious to Cobblepot’s obvious crush on him. Jim tried to ignore it for the most part. He was not sure whether this was another manipulation by Cobblepot, trying to get Jim to lower his guards, overlook and dismiss Penguin, which would be exactly what Penguin would want. But Jim was certain that Oswald couldn’t fake that light pink blush that would spread across his face whenever James was nearby.

 

It always caught Jim’s attention, how the blush accentuated those scattered freckles across Penguin’s nose and the top of his cheeks. Not that Jim thought about Cobblepot’s freckles, or whether or not they extended down the rest of his body, hidden and tucked away under a three piece suit. He didn’t.

 

But he had to admit that he did find Oswald’s crush on him quite flattering despite his usual response of discomfort whenever Cobblepot would stand just a little too close or Harvey would tease Jim about his ‘favorite snitch’.

 

So despite the fact that Gordon did actually try to put distance between him and the mobster – because for heaven’s sake he’s a cop – he had gotten used to the fact that fate had a tendency to laugh out right in his face for the attempt. Oswald and him seemed to be tied together by some invisible string; no matter how far he got, the two of them always snapped right back together. Whether James liked it or not, they were connected which was why he found Penguin’s absence a little disconcerting.

 

He should have been relieved at this sudden change, he was not even sure why he was so concerned with this in the first place. Neither could Harvey when he brought it up.

 

“Listen, this should be a _good thing_ ,” Harvey had replied. “We got enough on our plate from the newest baddie in town. It’s like endless growing weeds; you take out one criminal, four more pop up.”

 

Jim’s face must have not look too convinced, because Harvey continued, elaborating his theory. “I’m sure your little boyfriend is just laying low until we catch his newest rival. Why would Penguin try to go head to head with this new guy when the cops are just going to end up arresting him...waste of manpower or whatever.”

 

Another reason why there was to be another knot of worry in his stomach, it seemed Harvey was right about criminals growing like weeds in Gotham. Another newcomer had come to town by the name of Giordano Nero, challenging Penguin’s spot on the throne. It looked like Nero was contending for the title “King of Gotham” by wreaking havoc all over town. There was no rhyme or reason to his action- just pure chaos.

 

“None of it makes any sense,” James stated firmly, thinking about Penguin’s behavior. No way would he sit back and let somebody have an attempt at the throne, not after lying, manipulating, and scheming his way to the top.

 

“When did criminals ever make any sense? See, this is your problem, Jimbo, you think too much. You start giving these criminals...”

 

Jim tuned out the rest of Harvey’s lecture, not really wanting to listen to it for the umpteenth time this week. Harvey might not have noticed it, but Penguin was acting differently by not fighting back, by not showing this newcomer his place on the criminal totem pole.

 

He tried to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head, suggesting that maybe Penguin did go head to head with Nero and lost. The thought that Penguin could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere filled him with an unidentified feeling that he didn’t want to examine too closely, because some would concede it was actually pure unadulterated dread at the thought of Penguin being dead.

 

Jim had already decided to pay the Penguin a little visit to try to uncover what was going on, even before his cell phone went off with Oswald’s name flashing across the screen. Maybe he could get the answers he needed through the phone instead of making a trip to the club.

 

“Gordon.”

 

He wasn’t expecting it to be Butch on the other line, mumbling something much too low for Jim to catch. “Why are you whispering?”

 

“Boss doesn’t know I’m calling,” Butch raised his voice a little, but not by much.

 

If Gordon felt a spark of relief knowing that Cobblepot was indeed still alive, then he wasn’t going to mention it to anyone.

 

“Why _are_ you calling?” Gordon asked.

 

“Something’s wrong with Penguin.” Butch confirmed Gordon’s suspicions – it seemed like Cobblepot’s right-hand man noticed his strange behavior as well. “He’s been acting strange the last few weeks, and I thought maybe if his favorite detective comes round, it might cheer him up.”

 

“And what exactly could I do that would help?”

 

“Listen, I don’t know but he seems...a little down and out, and for some reason he _likes_ you. He’s been staying in his office all the time, barely eating, and when he does make a rare appearance it’s to yell at us. Honestly, it’s like living with an angry ghost...”

 

Hm.

 

“When did this start?”

 

“A few weeks ago,” Butch answered, “Honestly, if I didn’t know any better it seems like...”

 

“Seems like what?” Gordon snapped.

 

“Like it started a couple of days after he paid that – what’s his name – that guy that’s been all over the news lately…” Butch snap his fingers when he remembered, “Giordano Nero-That’s it! A bit of a creep if you ask me.”

 

“What happened at meeting?” Gordon knew it had something to do with Gotham’s newest criminal. He had seen what Nero was capable of, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was worried about what that sort of man would do to Penguin.

 

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Just some vague threats and it wasn’t until the next day that he started acting weird. Just try to talk some sense to him- will ya?” Butch didn’t bother waiting for Gordon’s reply, seemingly not interested as he hung up on him.

 

*****

 

As soon as Gordon’s shift ended, he found himself standing on the doorsteps under the purple neon umbrella, lighting up the concrete under his feet. Butch had ushered him inside before he had the chance to knock.

 

“Boss’s upstairs in his office. He’s not in the best of moods.” Butch warned Jim.

 

Jim’s gaze followed where the direction of Butch’s finger was pointing, before nodding at the mobster and heading up the stairs. He assumed Penguin’s office was behind the door with light peeking out from under the doorway.

 

He knocked twice, rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame in a quick series of knocks.

 

Penguin’s response was immediate, his tone angry and frustrated. “For heaven’s sake, I’m busy, Butch. I told you not to disturb me!”

 

Gordon didn’t say anything, just waited until he heard a loud sigh escape Penguin’s mouth and his distinctive footsteps moving towards the door. Whatever abuse the Penguin had ready to throw at his assistant died on his lips instantly when he saw it was James standing on the other side of the door and not Butch.

 

“Jim...” His name left Oswald’s lips softly, his mouth gape open at the sight of the detective, before he quickly snapped his mouth shut with a loud clack of his teeth hitting together, loud enough to make Gordon wince.

 

Penguin quickly wiped any resemblance of surprise from his expression, correcting himself, “Detective Gordon. I was not expecting a visit anytime soon.” Penguin looked past Jim’s shoulder, wondering why Butch had let the detective in, despite his strict instructions not to. Reluctantly, Oswald stepped aside, “Do come in.”

 

Gordon barely spared the room a glance, his attention focused on Cobblepot’s appearance. Penguin walked back to his desk, his limp more noticeable than normally. Jim felt a spark of concern as he watched Penguin drop his hand to his thigh, clutching at his bad leg.

 

It wasn’t just his limp that caught Jim’s attention. It was the pronounced dark circles fixed under Penguin’s eyes, the apparent weight loss that Penguin certainly didn’t need – with his cheeks gaunt and cheekbones sharp. Cobblepot wasn’t even wearing his usual fancy three piece suit; instead, his waistcoat was gone, wearing a simple white button down with its sleeves unevenly rolled up to his elbows and some slacks. Gordon’s eyes zeroed in on the razor thin scar tucked under Penguin’s shirt, the corner of the scar sticking out from the safety of his shirt, near his collarbone. The stark contrast between the crisp white shirt and the freshly pink scar made it even more noticeable.

 

He was used to seeing Cobblepot wearing an assortment of bruises, of different shapes and sizes, usually black eyes with the occasional cut on his cheek that Jim always had to fight the urge not to follow the wound with a light stroke of his thumb. None of the wounds were deep enough to scar and bruises faded over time. This, however, wouldn’t fade or heal, it would forever mark his skin, and Jim didn’t know why the idea of seeing it on Penguin’s skin bothered him so much.

 

“How may I assist the GCPD this evening?” Penguin asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, snapping Gordon’s attention away from the cut.

 

Gordon ignored the question, “What the hell happened to your shoulder?”

 

Oswald looked faintly shocked at the inquiry, clearly not expecting the detective to give two thoughts about his injury. He gazed down at his shoulder, expression blank, before pulling his shirt closer together, causing the scar to disappear from sight. “Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”

 

“From what exactly? No one has seen hide nor hair of you in weeks,” Jim pointed out.

 

Cobblepot’s head tilted to one side, “I would have suspected the GCPD would revel at my lack of criminal activities, but instead they send their brightest detective to interrogate me. I don’t understand, do you _want_ me to go out and commit some heinous act?”

 

Gordon, flustered at having his words twisted, stuttered out, “No-Of course not!”

 

“Then I see no reason why the GCPD’s knocking at my door.”

 

“This isn’t an official visit,” Gordon admitted reluctantly, very reluctantly. Not sure how Penguin would react to this bit of news. That Jim had specifically came to visit him, to seek him out during his abrupt absence. “I was...” _concerned about you_. He left the unspoken words hang there between them.

 

While Penguin’s face remained a controlled blank expression, not giving away any secrets of what was going on behind that stony mask he wore, it seemed to be a wasted effort, because the tips of his ears were tinged pink. Gordon definitely wasn’t going to think about it later.

 

Gordon cleared his throat, returning to the matter at hand, “What, a little competition and you’re hiding out? I didn’t take you for being a quitter.”

 

Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, it was gone in a matter of seconds, but Gordon saw it. The tiniest of flinches when Gordon mentioned the Nero. Before he had the chance to question it, Penguin cut him off, fixing him with an icy glare.

 

“Don’t worry, detective, I’m sure you’ll be able to find another criminal willing to provide information without any payment in return, should I retire from the business.”

 

“That’s-” Gordon angrily started. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

 

Penguin scoffed, “Worried? Worried about me? You didn’t seem too worried about me after almost leaving me in the clutches of Maroni and his men.”

 

Gordon might have gotten the whole situation wrong here. He had assumed that something must have happened for Cobblepot not to contact him for weeks. Of course it could all be explained that the Penguin was upset with Jim after what had happened at the warehouse.

 

He felt shame burn hot in his stomach at the reminder. “I wasn’t going to leave you-”

 

But Penguin held up his hand, stopping Gordon from continuing, “Don’t. Don’t pretend as if you care. It’s much worse than trying to send me off to my death.”

 

Jim couldn’t even think of a retort, or anything to say that would change Penguin’s mind on the subject, to convince him otherwise. He just stood there, fuming in silent rage, angry at the thought that Cobblepot honestly thought he would let him die, angry at himself for misreading the whole situation between them.

 

Penguin didn’t wait for him to gather his thoughts, instead he bluntly pointed at the door, “If you don’t mind, Detective, I am quite busy...I’m sure you know your way out.”

 

It wasn’t until the ride back home to his empty apartment, that Jim realized exactly what Penguin had done and he had fell for it hook, line, sinker.

 

Penguin had set him off on purpose.

 

He had brought up old wounds – that while they never spoke about openly – both had gotten over after Jim had made an effort to repair the fragile relationship they shared. Jim didn’t even had to apologize, all it seems he had to do was pay all little extra attention to Oswald. He started accepting Oswald’s invitations to join him at his club some evenings, for nothing more than a drink and just like that it was smoothed over.

 

And it threw Jim off, sent him in an angry haze at his past mistakes being thrown back in his face, distracted him from the real reason why he was there. Penguin had figured out exactly how Jim would react and it should have scared Jim that a criminal knew him so well that he could plan out his responses, but for some reason it didn’t. All Jim felt was more concern for the mobster, because whatever had happened, Cobblepot certainly didn’t want Jim to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV will switch back and forth between Jim and Oswald in each chapter! 
> 
> Again many thanks to thekeyholder for being the best beta ever!

After Jim had left, or rather, after Oswald had blatantly asked him to leave, he had to race to the bathroom in order not to get rid of the bile that had slowly crept up the back of his throat the whole time he was yelling at Jim on all over the carpets and himself.

 

It was frankly tactless, Oswald had to admit, to hold that particular mistake over Jim’s head, but nonetheless effective. The detective was getting a little too close to the truth, and he didn’t want that.

 

Oswald washed his face with cold water from the sink after vomiting up mostly bile and food he scantily ate earlier.  _ Why now? _ He thought to himself. Any other time, he would have been ecstatic that Jim Gordon had visited him on his own, strictly out of concern for him. He would have been over the moon by the fact. And sure, when he first saw Jim on the other side of the door, his heart gave out a small fluttering and later, when Jim admitted in so many words that he was worried about him, Oswald’s chest might have tightened, and he felt himself blushing, but the timing was just terrible.

 

Penguin had been acting cold towards James, a difficult act to play - it was hard to manhandle those strong feelings that arose back in submission every time Jim was around. It was simply vital for Oswald to keep his distance - not until he had the blood of his newest threat on his hands - he didn’t want Jim to get caught up between them, not to taint his good name or become an accessory after the fact.

 

Another part of him didn’t want Jim to find out why he was planning an execution either. He wondered how Jim would react if he knew what had happened - what he had let to happen - would he be sympathetic? Would he be disgusted? Honestly, Oswald didn’t want to know, too scared that Jim would look at him with repulsion, or worse  _ with pity _ .

 

Oswald pulled at his collar, revealing the memento left by his attacker. He shuddered as he remembered the warm breath on his face, the cruel laughter as the knife dig in just a little bit.

 

“ _ Now you will never forget where your place is.” _

 

Oswald was used to pain. He was used to the beatings and the punches, and the sharp blows. He was used to being knocked down, having his plans backfired on him, and used to facing the hard consequences from it. He took his pain and he took his mistakes, and let them make him stronger.

 

He could usually shake off anything when it came to pain but this,  _ this,  _ made him feel violated. Weak. Dirty. He hadn’t been able to shake this off so easily. In fact, the last few weeks he had been cooped up in his office, spending most of the days scrubbing his skin clean, because he could still feel hands all over him. He still did business, he couldn’t exactly shut down his club during his weeks of absence, so he sent Butch out to gather information for him, and Oswald would decide the next steps to take and delegate tasks to his men in the safety of his office.

 

Although the mere thought of stepping on the streets of Gotham made him physically sick to his stomach, Oswald figured that going downstairs would be a stepping-stone in the ability to face the streets of his beloved home again. But for the moment he couldn’t face the dark alleys and shadows, not yet.

 

So he opted for the next best thing, sitting at the bar. After seeing the concerned eyes of his men watching him, he quickly barked out orders for them to go do something else far from the club, so he could be alone. He took a sip of whiskey, hoping the alcohol’s warmth would wash away any feelings or thoughts about the night of his attack, but instead it left him feeling nothing but numbness.

 

However that didn’t last long. Thoughts of his conversations with Jim the night before began swarming in his mind, he quickly downed the rest of his drink, hoping that the effects of the alcohol would outweigh feelings of guilt. He was torn away from his thoughts when the doors to the entrance of the club clang together, slamming open and shut. He wished he could say that he didn’t jump in his seat at the noise, but he would be telling lies. Feelings of panic started to arise in him, and he realized how stupid it was to send his men away. He’d been waiting for this moment ever since his attack.  _ He’s coming for me, _ Oswald thought as his breathing quickened.

 

“ I know exactly what you’re doing!” James Gordon’s voice rang out, filling the previous silence of the room.

 

A puff of air left Oswald’s mouth, as he exhaled in relief, realizing it was just Detective Gordon. _ It was just Jim. _ Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes as the feeling of relief quickly left, embarrassment returning in its place. He felt foolish for getting so worked up. Oswald liked to think he had better control of his emotions than  _ this _ .

 

Biting the inside of his cheek, he forced the panicked feeling back down. Oswald spun around on the bar stool he was sitting on to face the detective. “Old friend! What a surprise, I wasn’t expecting you to return so quickly.”

 

If Gordon noticed Oswald’s watery eyes or how shaky his voice was, he didn’t comment on it. He plowed on, like he didn’t even hear Oswald. “You thought you could distract me? Try to get me to overlook what’s happening here? I figured out what you’ve been hiding. What you don’t want me to find out.”

 

Oswald’s throat felt like he’d swallowed a lump, he tried to speak, “I- I -”

 

“ I know you’re working with Nero.” Gordon took a few steps closer, just stopping a foot away from Oswald’s chair. “You two partnered up.”

 

A swell of anger rushed through Oswald. Jim thought he was working with his attacker. He thought that Oswald would join forces with that disgusting man?

 

“ I don’t know what you two are planning, but-”

 

“ I would never work with that- _ that monster _ !” His mouth clamped shut, realizing he’d said too much. Jim was going to figure it out. He cursed himself for not being able to hold his tongue.

 

And Jim was staring back at him, taken aback by how strong his response was. It was a mistake, Oswald thought, a mistake to try to venture downstairs, he should have stayed upstairs that day, where he would have been safe from his own mouth.

 

Oswald didn’t wait for James to speak, instead he clambered off his stool, and hurried to the stairs. He knew how weak this looked, retreating like a wounded animal, running away from the conversation, but he needed to get away, far away from Jim’s prying eyes that had a hint of concern to them. He was afraid another glance at Jim and he would break down crying.

 

A firm grip wrapped around his wrist, stopping him from moving, and Oswald didn’t have enough time to force back the shudder. It felt too much like the hand holding him that night. Jim was gripping the same spot, mirroring where old bruises had finally faded away from.

 

Jim must have noticed, because he let go immediately, eyebrows furrowing. “Oswald.” He spoke gently.

 

That was all it took for Oswald not to rush up the stairs without sparing a glance back. Jim’s tone had been so soft. The way he said Oswald’s name, Jim had succeeded in completely tearing down whatever resolve Oswald had, there was no chance in leaving now.

 

“ Are you in trouble? Did he threaten you?”

 

Oswald wanted to laugh. “No, detective. I am not in any trouble, nor am I being threatened.” Lies. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m glad you stopped by, but for now I should head back upstairs. Unattended business-”

 

“ Listen to me, Oswald. I can protect you from him.”

 

Oswald did let out a bitter snort at that. It was certainly an endearing thought. Jim, being his white knight, coming to rescue him from the evil clutches of the man that had seemingly managed to break Oswald mentally and physically. “It’s much too late for that, Jim.”

 

“ What did he do to you?” Jim asked, his voice was rough, but his eyes told a different story. They showed nothing, but concern for the criminal before him.

 

He didn’t know how to answer that, definitely wasn’t going to answer with the truth, although that honest look in Jim’s eyes made him consider doing just that, and how awful was that? When did James have this effect on him?

 

The shameful truth of the matter lingered on his tongue, ready to escape, ready to be heard, and Oswald had just opened his mouth to tell James everything when a loud, sharp crack resonated through the air, the sound of a shattering glass echoed next, and a sudden impact slammed into Oswald’s shoulder, knocking him back a few steps.

 

The pain wasn’t immediate; in fact, he didn’t even realize he had just been shot. It left him feeling simply dazed and Oswald couldn’t help but smile at the sensation, how freeing this numbness felt compared to the turmoil he’d been suffering silently through the last few weeks. It wasn’t until he glanced back up and caught Jim’s horrified expression that time seemed to sped up, and the Detective was kick-started in gear, tackling Oswald to the floor before a rain of bullets showered down around them.

 

He could feel warm, splayed fingers cupping the nape of his neck, cradling his head. Fingertips inches away from touching his hair. This was probably the closest Oswald and Gordon had ever been - even though Oswald had invaded Jim’s personal space on repeated occasions, this took the first spot.

 

Finally, what seemed like hours-could have just been a few minutes - the bullets stopped coming, followed by loud tires squealing as the perpetrator escaped, but Gordon didn’t move just yet. Instead, the two men stared at each other, eyes wide and panting - Jim’s breath uneven because of adrenaline and Oswald’s from pain.

 

“ Are you alright?” Gordon asked in short huffs.

 

“ No,” Oswald replied honestly. “I’ve just been shot!”

 

Gordon said nothing, instead just let out a loud sigh as he raised himself off of Oswald and helped him to his feet, mindful of his new injury.

 

“ Thank you, Detective. You probably just saved my life...again.”

  
Gordon didn’t acknowledge his thanks other than a slight nod. “I’m officially putting you under police protection.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely thekeyholder for betaing this chapter!

Jim knew that Oswald wouldn’t take too kindly to being under police protection, but he certainly wasn’t expecting this. 

 

“You can’t just claim someone under police protection! That’s not how it works!” Oswald cried out, now holding his bad shoulder. 

 

Jim wanted to scoff -  _Jim did scoff -_ at the sheer audacity of this man. “First off, I’m a cop.” He remind the criminal. “I’m familiar with how the law works, probably a lot more than you since you’re always breaking it.” 

  

This time Oswald scoffed, offended. Jim ignored it, “Secondly you’re obviously in danger and you’re hurt, you need to go to the hospital, I’ll escort you there myself-” 

  

“No, Jim Gordon!” Penguin backed away as Jim started to move towards him. Oswald looked away from Jim, shaking his head almost in what Jim could only describe as a desperate manner, “There has to be some kind of protocol in these kinds of situations. I’m not going anywhere with you until I receive approval from your Captain.” 

  

“Fine.” 

  

Oswald looked pleased with his response, glad that Jim was finally seeing some sense, but his smile faded when Gordon took out his handcuffs from behind his back. 

  

“W-What are you doing?” 

  

“Since you refuse to cooperate, I’m placing you under arrest.” 

  

Penguin’s jaw dropped, “On what grounds?!” 

  

“For obstruction of justice.” 

  

***** 

  

“You unlawfully arrested a man...What were you thinking?!” Captain Essen had called Gordon to her office after witnessing Gordon dragging in Penguin, the new king of Gotham’s criminal underbelly, by handcuffs, placing him in an interrogation room. 

  

Harvey wasn’t invited to the meeting, but he followed anyway, just to see how it would turn out. 

  

Jim stood in front of her desk, “Listen Captain. Something happened between Penguin and Nero. Something bad.” 

  

“And we should care why?” Harvey interjected from the side of the room. 

  

Jim shot a glare at his partner before looking back to the Captain. “We’ve already seen what Nero is capable of, and I know Penguin, sooner or later, he’s going to get revenge and when he does... This city can’t afford another mob war.” 

  

“OK.” Harvey held out his hands in a placating manner, “Valid point.” 

  

The Captain shook her head at Harvey, “You think you can convince Penguin to let this feud go and avoid a war?” 

  

“Honestly? No.” Jim answered truthfully. “But if he’s under police protection, he won’t be able to strike back. Let me keep an eye on him, Captain. I can keep him in check.” 

  

The Captain watched Gordon without a word, and Gordon felt uneasy under her scrutinizing stare. Gordon forced himself not to fidget during this tense silence. 

  

“Alright.” Finally the Captain spoke, but there was something in her eyes that made Gordon feel that she knew something he didn’t. 

  

It felt like air in the room had suspended itself while the Captain was deciding and now that Gordon got her approval, he could feel air returning to his lungs. He let out a relieved thank you. 

  

“But he’s under your watch Gordon.” She warned. “If he so much as steps a toe out of line, it’s on your head.” 

  

She stood from her chair behind her desk. “Hopefully, Mr. Cobblepot won’t sue the department for wrongful arrest.” 

  

***** 

  

Oswald was threatening to sue loudly to the medic who was patching up his shoulder when they walked through the interrogation room. He probably had been yelling about his treatment to anyone who’d listen. The medic just got dealt the short straw. 

  

He shut up though when he raised his gaze and saw Jim in the room. Oswald slapped at the poor medic’s hands away from his bandaged shoulder. However, the medic stayed right where he was, waiting for his patient to calm down before he could continue. 

  

Determined, Gordon thought, but he knew Cobblepot - he knew he wasn’t going to get anything done when Oswald was in such a mood. “You can go.” Jim dismissed the medic, who only shrugged once, collected his things and left. 

  

Harvey slipped inside the interrogation room as the medic took his leave before the door could shut. Gordon stifled a groan; Harvey and Oswald in the same room would only add more tension than what was already there. 

  

“Damn, Penguin. You look like a ghost,” Harvey commented, seemingly unable to hold his tongue. 

  

But he wasn’t wrong. Jim had hoped that Oswald would look more like himself on his second visit to the club, but it seemed he had gotten worse. The bullet to his shoulder and the bright lights of the room didn’t help matters. Before, he looked simply unhealthy, like he wasn’t sleeping at night and not eating properly, but now a thin layer of sweat rested across his forehead, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to stand out even more against his pallor. The lights of the room brought more attention to all the new shadows and sharp points on his face. 

  

Jim didn’t mention his appearance during his past visits, but he was curious to see how Oswald would react to the comment. 

  

Cobblepot’s lips thinned at the sight of Harvey, looking like he just swallowed a lemon, but Oswald seemed to have more self control than Jim’s partner did, as he didn’t dignify his statement with a response. 

  

“Mr. Cobblepot.” The Captain started, but Oswald cut her off. 

  

“Captain Essen.” Oswald greeted coolly. “Do you tell all your detectives to arrest injured, bleeding men or is that something frowned upon here?” His sharp glare moved to Jim as he said the last part. 

  

“Oswald-” Jim took a step forward, but cut himself off when he felt all the eyes in the room watching him, intently and curiously. There were already rumors - which he was certain Harvey had started most of them- about the nature of his and Oswald’s relationship, and he certainly wasn’t helping disproving them. 

  

“Mr. Cobblepot.” The Captain started again. “On behalf of the GCPD, I would like to apologize for any inconvenience Detective Gordon may have caused.” 

  

Cobblepot looked away from Jim back to the Captain, pleased with what he was hearing. 

  

“While the GCPD doesn’t condone the brusque action Detective Gordon took,” she added, reprimanding Jim in front of everyone, “But he does have a point. Your place of work was under attack this afternoon, and Detective Gordon believes your life is in danger. It would be wise that you should stay under Detective Gordon’s watch just until the threat is completely resolved.” 

  

“B-But-But-” A look of pure disbelief ran across Oswald’s face, but Captain didn’t wait around to listen to Oswald’s stuttering to form into a protest. 

  

Oswald’s mouth was gaping open then closed, like a fish’s, as he watched her leave the room, dragging a chortling Harvey by the elbow out as well. 

  

***** 

  

Oswald didn’t speak on the drive back, not one word the entire time. Jim’s fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel, clutching onto it as he throws worried glances at the quiet mobster. He was expecting something from the man, a grimace from the pain in his shoulder, loud argument about why Jim shouldn’t have been doing this, anything really, but instead there was nothing. No reaction. Oswald’s face was completely blank and empty and honestly, that scared Jim more than anything. 

  

He was used to bright calculating eyes, and that toothy smile that looked far too innocent for a man like Cobblepot. 

  

Harvey’s words came floating to the front of his mind.  _“You look like a ghost.”_ While Jim was positive that Harvey meant it more due to his appearance, Jim couldn’t help but draw a connection between the description and Oswald’s behavior. All he was seeing now was an empty shell of what the man used to be. 

  

He’d seen this before, this type of behavior in past victims from cases that were usually the toughest to stomach. Apprehension began to pool at the bottom of Jim’s stomach, and he was hoping that his suspicions were wrong this time. 

  

It was only when Oswald realized the car was going in the opposite direction of the nightclub, that he spoke, “Where are you going? My club is that way.” He pointed behind him. 

  

Gordon’s eyes left the road for a second, to spare a glance at the man in the passenger seat. “We’re not going back to the club.” 

  

“I need to go back there - my men are probably wondering where I am, I need to let them know I’m fine.” 

  

“You’re not fine and we’re not going back there. It’s too dangerous for you to return just yet.” Gordon answered gruffly, but digged into his suit pocket for his phone, taking one hand off the wheel and handing the phone to Oswald after noticing a deep frown began to form on his face. “Here, you can call them.” 

  

He could feel Oswald’s eyes on him linger a bit, no doubt assessing the scene before him, trying to figure out Jim’s motives, before gingerly taking the phone from Jim. Cold fingertips brushed against Jim’s palm, and despite the fact that it lasted only for a split second, the feeling of Oswald’s touch was heavy and ever present on Jim’s hand. He resisted the urge to reflexively clench and unclench his fingers at the sensation. 

  

Jim tried not to listen while Oswald made his phone call, wanting to give him some illusion of privacy. He was not too worry that Oswald would give out orders to return the hit - not in Jim’s presence - he wouldn’t incriminate himself in front of a cop. He was much too smart for that. 

  

He took the phone back once Oswald was finished, expecting the gangster to say something, but Oswald simply murmured a thanks and settled back into the car seat, eyes falling shut as he leaned his head back against the car seat’s headrest.  _Oswald must be_ _exhausted_ , Jim thought, for him to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of Jim, too tired to keep up a front. The fact that Oswald was willing to let down his guard - something considered dangerous in Oswald’s line of business - around Jim forced him to realize just how much Oswald trusted him. 

  

Oswald must have fallen asleep sometime during the drive, and  Jim almost didn’t want to wake him, considering that Oswald had probably gotten more shut-eye now than in the last few weeks. If his suspicions were true, he knew better than to shake the gangster awake. 

  

“Oswald.” Jim said his name loud enough for the mobster to quickly snap his eyes open, raising up in his seat so fast that Jim knew the movement would jar his shoulder. Jim’s hand shot out to steady the gangster, “Careful.” Jim refrained himself from touching Oswald, his hand stopping, hovering just above Oswald’s arm. “Don’t worry, you’re safe.” 

  

Oswald’s breathing had quickened, Jim wasn’t sure whether it was from the pain from the gunshot wound or from being startled awake - probably a mixture of both. 

  

“I know that,” Oswald snapped irritably, not quite meeting Jim’s eyes. 

  

Jim didn’t say anything, just let Oswald have a moment to calm his breathing. Oswald’s eyes were squeezed shut as he let out a shaky breath and another one. It took a moment for Jim to realize that Oswald had started to hyperventilate. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter does contain a character having a panic attack. I wanted to make sure everyone is aware just in case!!!
> 
> As always I can't thank thekeyholder enough for taking the time and betaing these chapters!!!

Oswald knew he could leave. He knew that Jim or the GCPD couldn’t force him into police protection. He could refuse and just have Gabe pick him up, or even just ask Jim to drop him back at the club, but he didn’t. Instead, he let Jim lead him out of the police precinct back to Jim’s car, and was currently driving him to who knows where. Maybe Oswald was just too tired to argue, maybe a part of him didn’t want to face whatever was waiting for him back at the club, maybe it was the opportunistic side of him coming out,wanting to soak up every second he has with Jim, because he knew this opportunity wouldn’t happen again.

 

Much to his dismay someway along the drive, he had fallen asleep.

 

He’s startled awake and at first the flare of pain and the memories of the nightmare he just had were too fresh in his mind for him to focus on anything else. Jim’s words didn’t register until he already snapped out a response.

 

“ _Don’t worry, you’re safe.”_

 

It hit him. _Jim knows_.

 

Suddenly, the space in the vehicle felt much too small, and Oswald was struggling to catch his breath properly.

 

_Jim knows. Jim knows. Jim knows._

 

He felt trapped. His brain - the one thing he always relies on to get him out of the toughest situations - seemed not to be working. No plans of how to fix this, nothing to help him to firmly cast any suspicions the detective had away, nothing. Instead, it seems an alarm had been tripped, and his mind was only capable of screaming at him to move-to run- _to get out._

 

Oswald was scrambling. It took a few tries to get his hands to work, but he manages to undo his seat belt, and he’s throwing himself out of the car and away from Jim. Cold air hit him full on and nipped at any exposed skin, but Oswald didn’t care, because it felt good. The frigid air was a warm welcome compared to the stuffy, almost unbearable air back in the car. At that point he was not even paying attention to where he was going, as long as it was the opposite of Jim, he didn’t care. His leg was acting up something terribly and was slowing him down; he reasoned that was why it took Jim no time to catch up with Oswald.

 

“Oswald-Stop-You’re going to hurt yourself.”

 

Words were falling out of Oswald’s mouth faster than his brain could catch up. He was backing away from the detective, in full panic mode. “I’m fine, was the only thing he was able to repeat.

 

Oswald could see the detective slowly approaching him, hands out in front of him, a move he clearly had done before - probably from approaching many volatile criminals in an attempt to calm them down. He felt a wave of disgust at himself. The fact that Jim had to resort to tricks he used on other lowly criminals, all because Oswald couldn’t keep his emotions in check.

 

His chest was tight and his footsteps started to falter as a wave of dizziness hit him. He didn’t have any time to steady himself; instead, his knees landed hard against the concrete. The pain that shot up his bad leg was excruciating, but it anchored his racing mind. It allowed him to focus just on the sharp pain and nothing else.

 

“You’re having a panic attack,” Jim told him, and if it had been anyone else, he would have given a smart retort back of ‘ _Yes I gathered that, thank you very much.’_

 

Oswald didn’t even glance up, his head was lowered to his chest, eyes squeezed shut as he was breathing gulps of air. When he did look up, he discovered that Jim had moved, kneeling in front of him. Their eyes locked, and Oswald found that he couldn’t look away.

 

There was a crease right between Jim’s eyebrows that betrayed his otherwise stoic expression. His eyes never left Oswald’s as he spoke.

 

“When I first got back from the army...” He trailed off as if questioning whether he should tell Oswald whatever it was he was going to say. Oswald could tell he was conflicted. Sharing personal stories was heading into a new territory of their relationship. There was a drawn line that Jim had made sure not to cross when it came to interacting with Oswald, and after so many times Oswald had tried to get him to, Jim was going to break it himself.

 

Jim sighed, giving in to whatever it was to convince him to share and started again, “When I first got back from the army... it was a struggle readjusting to civilian life.

 

“The memories from war were too fresh in my mind. Anytime I heard a car backfire, all I could hear was an explosion. My first instinct was to run to find cover and get to safety.”

 

Oswald listened as Jim continued, telling him all about how rough the transition was, telling him about the nightmares that kept him up at night, the several panic attacks he suffered through alone, even though Barbara had been in the next room.

 

Soon, Oswald realized that his breathing had evened out while Jim talked. He couldn’t help but ask as soon as Jim finished talking, “Why are you telling me this?”

 

Jim went quiet for a few seconds before he gave Oswald one of his rare genuine smiles. “That’s what friends do.”

 

Oswald’s eyes went wide at Jim’s words as a strangled noise escaped his mouth. He surged up, closing the short distance between them, hands gripping the lapels of Jim’s suit. It didn’t take a second before Jim is kissing him back, cupping Oswald’s face as he deepened the kiss.

 

Oswald had dreamed of this moment. He had been wanting Jim for so long, but buried any hope that the detective would feel the same, but here they were, in each other’s embrace. Jim was the first to pull away, and Oswald was afraid that he regretted the kiss that had just transpired between them, but Jim simply dropped his forehead to rest against Oswald’s.

 

“You have terrible timing, Jim Gordon.” Oswald wanted to keep his cool demeanor, but he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face.

 

“I know,” Jim said, smiling right back.

 

They stayed like that for a moment, eyes shut as both tried to catch their breaths before Oswald’s leg started to cramp up, and regretfully he had to pull away. He smiled apologetically, and pointed to his leg when Jim gave him a questioningly look. Jim appeared to look guilty, seemingly forgetting about his injured leg and quickly helped the mobster to his feet.

 

Jim looked Oswald over, making sure he was in one piece before meeting his eyes and swallowing, “Is this alright?” Jim’s hands were surprisingly warm as he gingerly took Oswald’s hand.

 

Oswald bit back a chuckle at the question; it seemed silly that he wanted to know if holding his hand was acceptable after giving quite a breathtaking kiss, but Oswald didn’t say anything about the fact, instead he interlaced their fingers.

 

“I think so.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks to the lovely thekeyholder for betaing this story!

 

Oswald Cobblepot had kissed him...Oswald Cobblepot had kissed him, and Jim had kissed him right back. There was no hesitation, no internal moral arguments, nothing. All Jim could think about in that moment was how soft Oswald’s lips were. Jim had seen every side of Oswald, or so he’d thought. He’d seen him manipulating his way out of bad situations, seen him seconds away from murdering a man with nothing more than a scalpel, and Jim knew that Oswald would have done it without any second thoughts if Jim hadn’t arrived when he did.

 

He had learnt just how dangerous Cobblepot was the first time they met each other back in that alleyway, with him gleefully standing over a bleeding man gripping a baseball bat.

 

Jim had never seen Oswald like this, though. In all the times Gordon saw Oswald, there was an air of mystery around him. Jim was never quite sure if he was seeing the real Oswald or what Oswald wanted him to see. Oswald was a chameleon. He had perfected the art of conforming to what people wanted him to be.

 

But in that moment, Jim got a rare glance underneath the mask Oswald wore. Oswald had opened up to him, trusted him even after everything he’d been through, even after everything Jim had done. When he managed to calm Oswald down and they had locked eyes, everything around them had faded in the background. Oswald was looking at him, just Oswald, not the mobster, not the king of Gotham, only Oswald and Jim couldn’t ignore his feelings for the younger man any longer.

 

After the kiss, he felt lightheaded and almost giddy. The feeling lingered as he directed Cobblepot inside his apartment building, still holding the mobster’s hand. After all this time of burying his feelings and fighting them, he was not quite ready to lose contact just yet, afraid that everything would go back to how things were if he let go.

 

It hit him as they were walking down the corridor to the elevators, Jim had completely ignored the set of stairs he normally took, figuring Oswald was in no shape to tackle them, that his earlier suspicions had been confirmed.

 

Oswald had been sexually assaulted - Jim was not sure to what degree, but he knew this was what Oswald had been hiding from him. Oswald hadn’t been sleeping or eating because of  this - went weeks hiding away from everyone, and Jim couldn’t forget that expression on Oswald’s face from earlier either, after being shot - how pleased he looked.

 

Emotionally and physically, Oswald has been suffering and was in pain. Oswald had kissed him in a moment of vulnerability. and Jim had taken advantage of it.

 

He felt sick.

 

He could feel Oswald’s eyes watching him as they stood in the elevator. Jim was forced to let go of Oswald’s hand in order to hit the button for the floor level of his apartment. That was when he decided to give Cobblepot some space. He stood as far away from the man as the space in the elevator allowed him.

 

Maybe it had more to do with helping clear Jim’s mind than anything else.

 

Oswald’s loud sigh was what drew Jim’s attention away from the button panel he had been intently staring in order not to look over at the man he just kissed.

 

“ I knew you’d regret it.”

 

Oswald was leaning his weight against the wall of the elevator, his arms crossed, eying him with a guarded expression. For a second, it felt like Oswald was back to old self, the man too smart for his own good, the man that was calculating five steps ahead of everyone else. It was a relief to see, if Jim was being honest.

 

Jim looked away. “I don’t regret it.”

 

Oswald didn’t believe him and it showed. “Come, Jim. I didn’t make it this far without learning how to spot liars.”

 

“ I do regret it. Not about kissing you.” Jim cleared his throat. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time now.”

 

Jim glanced back at Oswald to see his reaction, he found himself rather curious to see just how the mobster would react to his admission, and it didn’t disappoint.

 

Oswald’s whole face turned pink, “T-Then-”

 

“ It was wrong of me to kiss you then.”

 

“ I-I don’t understand.” Oswald looked confused. “I thought you said that you didn’t regret kissing me.”

 

“ I don’t.” Jim turned to Oswald. “It just wasn’t the right time. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. You just had a panic attack… you were emotionally vulnerable. It wasn’t right.”

 

“ But-But I kissed you!” Oswald argued.

 

“ And I shouldn’t have kissed you back.”

 

Oswald didn’t even try to hide his annoyance, rolling his eyes at Jim, but he didn’t say anything else, for which Jim was grateful, because he didn’t want his neighbors to overhear their argument as they reached Jim’s apartment door.

 

Jim watched Oswald as he took a glance around his apartment, his eyes roaming all over Jim’s place. His face remained completely blank - free of any judgment - as he examined the room before letting his eyes fall back to Jim, almost appeared to be waiting for Jim to speak.

 

It hit Jim that Oswald  _ was _ waiting for him, waiting for him to be a good proper host, like Oswald would have been if the roles were reversed. “Oh-uh-take a seat,” Jim awkwardly pointed in the direction of his couch. “Do you want anything? Water? Coffee?”

 

Oswald declined his offer, immediately taking a seat on the sofa, looking relieved at having the weight off his bad leg.

 

“ I won’t deny it, I’m not exactly a chef, but I could cook up something if you’re hungry? I’m sure I have something in the kitchen.” Jim knew that was bit of a stretch. His fridge had been empty for the last several weeks. Nothing there except old leftovers from takeout.

 

“ No, thank you, Jim, but I appreciate the offer.”

 

Jim frowned at that. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

 

Oswald shrugged like it was not important, “Earlier today.”

 

He knew that Oswald was not going to listen to him if he told him he needed to eat. The gangster could be just as stubborn as Jim, but Oswald needed to eat.

 

“ Listen, I’m starving, so I’m going to order some takeout. I really hope you’ll join me...” For some reason that seemed more intimate than the moment they shared outside his apartment complex. It almost sounded like he was asking Oswald to dinner, a date.

 

“ You need to get your strength back,” He added weakly as an explanation. 

 

He didn’t know why he was even bothering, given that he had just kissed the man less than twenty minutes before. Glistening greenish blue eyes were staring back at him, and suddenly Jim felt a bit lightheaded at the way Oswald was looking at him. It was too overwhelming,

 

“ S-Sure,” Oswald stuttered out. 

 

Something had changed his mind. Maybe because Jim had been polite about asking him, but he had a feeling it had more to do with the fact that Oswald would be sharing a meal with Jim, like they were on a date, than anything else.

 

By the time their food arrived, it was growing dark outside. They ate in silence; Jim had now joined Oswald on the couch, making sure to sit a good distance away, to allow Oswald some space. He didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. He wanted Oswald to feel comfortable and safe with him.

 

Oswald didn’t eat as much as Jim would have liked. He was picking at his food, but he was making an actual effort to get some food down for Jim’s benefit, so Jim decided to let it go for the moment.

 

Throughout the meal, Oswald was fidgeting. It took Jim a while before he realized that Oswald was actually shifting closer to Jim, slowly moving towards him as if testing the waters. Food long forgotten, Jim didn’t move an inch - he wanted Oswald to have all the control.

 

Oswald stopped right before their legs brushed up against each other. He didn’t do anything else, just sat there like he was waiting for an invitation or some sign. Jim thought he understood what Oswald wanted, so he rested one of his arms in the space between their legs, he keeps his hand there, leaving it open to Oswald to take if he wanted.

 

He could hear a quick intake of breath from beside him, before Oswald hesitatingly slipped his fingers into Jim’s, lacing their fingers together. Although Jim realized that he now had to finish his meal using only one hand, he found that he didn’t mind all that much.

 

Oswald’s hands were slender and soft compared to Jim’s; it felt right. Sitting there with the mobster - eating and holding hands -was a nice change of pace. It felt like Gotham was always moving, the cogs in the machinery constantly shifting, and Jim was convinced that if you put your ear next to the ground, you could hear the city purring like an engine beneath your feet. But sitting here now with Oswald, the city just faded into background noise.

 

They sat in comfortable silence as Jim finished eating, unaware that his thumb had been absently stroking back and forth over Oswald’s skin. Jim looked over to see if the action made Oswald  in any way uncomfortable , and found Oswald blinking fast, like he was trying not to fall asleep. He was fighting a losing battle, because his eyes were already halfway shut, ready to give out completely and just sleep.

 

“ C’mon.” Jim took pity on him and stood, pulling the gangster up with him. “I got some extra clothes if you want.”

 

Jim was kicking himself at the fact that he didn’t think about Oswald’s state of dress earlier. A change of clothes should have been the first thing to offer when they entered Jim’s apartment. The blood on Oswald’s shirt had long since dried, and Jim remembered that he didn’t even offer any medicine to help with the pain.

 

_ Christ he’s terrible at this. _

 

Jim shook his head, ignoring the feelings of guilt nabbing at him for his lack of host skills, and let go of Oswald’s hand to fetch him a pair of sweatpants and a plain shirt from his bedroom.

 

He was rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and holding out the clothes to Oswald with the other when he returned. “Uh, bathroom’s down at the end of the hall, door on the left. You’re welcome to take a shower if you want.”

 

Oswald gave a hesitant glance at the clothes in Jim’s hands, but nonetheless he took them, sending an appreciative smile in the detective’s way before brushing past him down the hallway Jim had pointed him towards.

 

While Oswald was in the shower, Jim set out a glass of water and two Tylenols out on the table next to his bed for the gangster as soon as he was finished in the bathroom. Jim wished he had something stronger, but this would have to do for the moment.

 

Jim was setting up the couch for himself to sleep for that night when he heard uneven footsteps come padding down the hall. He didn’t bother looking over as he tried to situate his pillow just right.

 

When he did look up, he was taken aback at the sight of Oswald in his clothes, but it was more than just that. Oswald looked better than he had the last couple of times Jim had seen him. Healthier almost. He appeared to have gotten some of his color back, even though Oswald had always been pale. He looked different too: this was the first time Jim had ever seen Oswald in such a casual manner. During Jim’s visits, he always wore a lot of layers of expensive clothes, with his hair styled in that birdlike way Oswald usually had it.

 

Now those long strands of dark hair were pushed to the side. Jim’s plain white shirt was much too big for Oswald’s small frame, its sleeve precariously hanging off Oswald’s shoulder, and the bottom of his blue sweatpants seemed to gather and cover Oswald’s bare feet.

 

Oswald cleared his throat, folding his arms self-consciously across his chest at Jim’s stare, and the noise startled Jim out of his daze.

 

“ Uh...Let me show you to the bedroom-”

 

“ Wait, why?” Oswald asked as he took a step back from Jim, suddenly leery of him.

 

His mistrustful tone stinged a little, but Jim didn’t let it get to him - he was not positive that Oswald was even aware of his actions.

 

“ I’m letting you sleep in my bed while I take the couch,” Jim told him patiently.

 

“ Oh...” Oswald covered his eyes with one of his hands. “I-I’m sorry, Jim. I didn’t mean to imply you have any unsavory intentions...I’m not sure why I...I just...” Oswald struggled to explain.

 

“ Don’t worry about it,” Jim reassured him, “Follow me.”

 

“ Shouldn’t I be the one sleeping on the couch since I am after all a guest? I wouldn’t want to impose.” Oswald brought it up as they were walking down the hallway together, Jim was moving a bit slower to match Oswald’s pace.

 

“ No, because you’re not just a guest, Oswald. I want you to be comfortable here.” Jim opened his bedroom door before stepping back. “I’ll be right in the living room if you need anything.”

 

“ Are you sure? I am more than willing to sleep on the couch.” Oswald tried again, and Jim smiled at his tenacity.

 

Jim wasn’t able to hold back the chuckle that escaped, “Yeah-I’m sure.”

 

“ If you insist.” Oswald said, but he already took a step across the threshold into Jim’s bedroom, seemingly too tired to argue anymore.

 

“ Good night, Oswald.”

 

Oswald looked back at him, voice soft. “Goodnight, Jim.”

  
  


*****

 

Jim decided to stay up for a bit. He called Harvey and checked to see if they had any new leads on the whereabouts of Nero yet. After all the damage Nero had caused in the past weeks, he’d become Gotham’s enemy number one. Nero’d been taking out his competition, blowing up mob affiliated places, causing nothing but destruction in his path. Innocent civilians were getting caught in the crossfire, people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

Jim knew that Nero needed to be stopped. After everything he’d done - especially what he did to Oswald - Jim wanted nothing more than to catch him. He was hoping that Oswald might help him in that endeavor, that he might help build a case against Nero. He planned on bringing up the topic to Oswald the next morning -not that night - too much had happened and Jim was not sure Oswald wouldn’t have backtracked and disappeared on him to avoid the conversation.

 

He also knew there was a lot Oswald and him needed to discuss, especially about their evolving relationship, but that could wait until they caught Nero. He was starting to drift when he heard the noises. Alarmed, he straightened up in his seat, listening carefully to the sound. It was awhile before he heard the noise again. Grabbing his gun, he headed to the door, making sure it was locked. He was not going to let Nero anywhere near Oswald again.

 

Double checking the locks, he went to make sure Oswald was alright. He cracked his bedroom door open, peaksed in and discovered that the noises were coming from Oswald. He was tossing and turning, clearly having some nightmare - probably why he looked like he hadn’t slept in over a week.

 

“ Oswald...” Jim tried to stir him from the bad dream, but his voice went unheard. He tried again, but it was the same result.

 

Reluctantly, Jim gently shook the younger man, lightly placing his hand on Oswald’s arm. Immediately, Oswald awakened, gasping loudly. His eyes looked unfocused, like he was not seeing what was in front of him, and he was pushing himself away from the figure standing next to his bed, not realizing it was only Jim.

 

“ Hey-Hey- Relax, it’s just me.”

 

Oswald had to blink a few times before he registered the fact. “J-Jim w-what are you doing in h-here?”

 

“ You were having a nightmare,” Jim explained, “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

 

Silence fell between them, the only sounds in the room were their own soft breathing. It was a while before Oswald spoke again. “I don’t think I am, Jim...”

 

Jim nodded, face grim at Oswald’s words. “Try to get some sleep.”

 

Before Jim reached the door, Oswald called for him. “Jim?”

 

Jim stopped, looking back over his shoulder with a questioning look.

 

Oswald paused, taking a breath, “Would...Would you mind sleeping here with me?”

 

That was not what Jim’s expecting, he could feel his mouth drop slightly open in shock. He quickly wiped the expression from his face, trying to look more impassive at the question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

Jim’s mind was set, he was just going to tell Oswald goodnight, and head back to the couch. He was almost out of the door when he heard Oswald again.

 

“ Please.”

 

It was the please that stopped him, and Jim had no choice, but to humor Oswald. He turned around, defeated, making his way back to his bed. “If you get uncomfortable-”

 

Oswald shook his head, “I won’t.”

 

“ Are you sure?” Jim was standing at the foot of the bed, frowning.

 

“ I...I feel safer with you around, Jim.” Oswald admitted.

 

From his expression, Jim could tell that Oswald was being sincere. His words struck at the boy scout side of him, the protective side of him. He was pleased that Oswald trusted him, felt safe with him, so he only hesitated a bit before he was pulling the covers back and sliding in next to Oswald.

 

“ Thank you.” Was the only warning he got before Oswald scooted closer to him. Out of habit, his arms immediately wrapped around Oswald, loosely holding him to his chest. It surprised Jim just how perfect they fit together.

 

“ Is this alright?”

 

“ Yes.” Jim could feel Oswald’s head moving as he nodded his consent before resting his cheek on Jim’s chest like a pillow. “Goodnight, Jim.”

 

“ Goodnight, Oswald.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thekeyholder for being an amazing beta!!!! Honestly what would I do without your help?

 

The feeling of strong arms around him when he first woke up made Oswald panic. He didn’t recognize where he was,  and he wasn’t able to see anything beyond the grey shirt that his nose was pressing up against. He flailed, pushing himself away from the stranger, breaking the man’s hold.

 

He could hear a voice speaking to him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. His body was curling up into himself, eyes squeezed shut and he was thrashing his arms out in defense, hoping to slow down his attacker before they struck.

 

“OSWALD!”

 

_That’s Jim’s voice._ Oswald’s eyes snapped open, and the first things he saw was Jim leaning over him with a worried expression. A spot on the right side of his jaw was already blossoming into a bruise where Oswald had clipped him, currently red, but it would eventually darken into purplish black mark.

 

He felt horrible. Oswald scrambled upright until he was on his knees, the mattress sinking a little under the weight. His leg gave out an uncomfortable twinge, but he ignored it, trembling hands grasped at Jim’s jaw, holding the side where Oswald hadn’t hit him as he turned the detective’s head to examine his right side more closely.

 

“Jim! I am so sorry, _”_ Oswald cursed himself. “I-I can’t even begin to apologize. Are you alright?!”

 

He startled a bit when he felt Jim’s hand cover his own. “Don’t worry about it, Oswald.”

 

Oswald frowned and started to argue, but Jim - still covering Oswald’s hand - pulled both their hands away from his face and interrupted, “Hey, it’s fine. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

 

Jim squeezed the gangster’s hand once, twice, before letting go and stepping back. “How’s your shoulder?”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Mind if I take a look at it?” Jim asked, meeting Oswald’s eyes directly. Oswald’s breath hitched at the detective’s gaze. Being so close to Jim was making it hard to think properly, and Oswald could only wordlessly nod for Jim to go ahead with his inspection.

 

Jim’s shirt was big enough on him for it to allow Oswald to be able to push the material completely off his shoulder where Jim could see the bandage. Jim stepped closer, cautiously moving at a slow pace for Oswald’s sake, and ever so gently pulled the bandage back to examine the new set of stitches.

 

“Looks good,” Jim stated. “Could have been a lot worse. You’re lucky it was only a flesh wound.”

 

“That’s what the medic said as well.”

 

Oswald tensed when he noticed Jim’s eyes move to the scar down below by his collarbone. He yanked his sleeve up, covering up any evidence left by Nero’s attack, and he slid off the bed at lightning speed to get away from Jim’s curiosity.

 

“Did Nero do that to you?” Oswald flinched at his attacker’s name coming from Jim’s mouth.

 

He knew the detective was not good at this, talking about difficult subjects like this one. Often times he was too blunt, or he always had been with Oswald in past encounters. There’d always been that line the two carefully made sure not to cross when it came to one another, and talking about their emotions was definitely on the other side of the line that was wrapped in yellow tape with the words: ‘DO NOT CROSS”.

 

Now the line was much too blurry for them to keep the rules they had for their relationship intact. The tape had been ripped and torn.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

Jim looked uncomfortable and he probably was, but he plods through his discomfort. “Oswald, you’ve been through something traumatic. You need to talk about it with someone...”

 

“Men like us don’t get to talk about what happens to us.” Oswald told him, and Jim was already shaking his head at his words, but Oswald knew he was right, and he knew that Jim did too.

 

“You’re a homicide detective; you see the worst Gotham has to offer every day. Tell me, Jim, and do be honest - do you talk about the horrors you see to anyone? Do you speak about what you saw overseas, what actions you were forced to do in the war?”

 

Jim said nothing and Oswald used this as an opportunity to try and escape this conversation.

 

“We still need to talk.” Jim stopped Oswald when he reached the doorway.

 

Oswald paused at that: those are usually the words people dread to hear coming from the people they care about most. This was it. He knew this couldn’t last - whatever this was between them - Oswald shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up that this could last. After all, he was part of the reason why Jim saw so much bloodshed and crime in Gotham. He braced himself for the inevitable.

 

“We still need to figure out our next steps in stopping Nero.”

 

A part of Oswald was relieved, another part was surprised that Jim had to even ask. “There is nothing to plan. I’m going to kill him.”

 

Jim sighed, “I can’t let you do that.”

 

“Your strong moral compass is what I always liked about you, Jim, but Nero deserves to die. After everything he’s done, this city needs him dead.”

 

“And the innocent by-standers? Do they deserve to die just because they got caught in the crossfires?” Jim shook his head, “I can’t just step aside and let you start another mob war.

 

“The GCPD will arrest Nero.” Jim took a step forward, sounding determined. “If you give a statement about your assault, it will help us build a stronger case against him.”

 

Oswald scoffed at Jim’s naivety, his belief that justice would prevail if you play by the rules. Oswald knew better, “Forgive me if I don’t have faith in your system.”

 

“I’m not asking you to trust the system - I’m asking you to trust me. Let me do my job, Oswald.”

 

Blinking, Oswald noticed in the short time that Jim had closed the distance between them and was standing right in front of him. “Do you trust me?”

 

Heat rushed to his face. Jim knew the answer and Oswald knew that he knew. Ever since Jim had spared his life at the pier, Oswald had put his complete trust in Jim. He took a steadying breath before nodding. “You know I do.”

 

Oswald’s eyes widened slightly due to the hand that cupped his face - more from how unexpected it was rather than Jim’s touch itself.

 

“Then trust me on this. We’re going to catch him, Oswald. I promise you that.” Jim’s thumb was brushing over Oswald’s cheekbone, and suddenly Oswald’s mind went completely blank. He still didn’t think he’d ever get used to Jim actively touching him in this manner.

 

When he was able to use his tongue again, he kept his tone nonchalant, trying to make it appear that Jim’s touch didn’t have this massive effect on him. “Fine...but I still think my method is the better way to ensure Nero gets what he deserves.”

 

Oswald paused, afraid that he might have ruined Jim’s soft mood by reminding him of his criminal activities.

 

“ _Your_ method is illegal.” Jim quipped, but was still smiling, so Oswald counted that as a win.

 

Oswald had to force himself not to lean forward after Jim’s hand when he pulled away. The sensation of Jim’s thumb still lingered across his cheek.

 

“Right so….there’s a shop just down the street.” Jim started, “I -uh-thought I could run by, and get us some breakfast.”

 

Oswald had to bite his lip at the rush of happiness that flooded through him. While Oswald did like to enjoy things while they lasted - he knew that they didn’t, in fact, last. He had been expecting Jim to come to his senses after spending the night together, not wanting the criminal in his apartment for too much longer, but it turned out that was not the case.

 

“Don’t you have to go to work soon?” Oswald asked, trying to mask the hope in his voice.

 

“I took the day off. I figured you probably didn’t want to stick around the precinct.”

 

Oswald remembered that he was technically under Jim’s protective custody, and had Jim gone to work that day, he would have been forced to tag along. His lips curled up in disgust at the thought of having to sit there near Detective Bullock, watching him all day. Oswald had certainly dodged a bullet on that one.

 

“Good idea.” Oswald patted Jim’s chest before catching himself. Blushing at his behavior and just how firm Jim’s chest felt under his hand, he apologized, quickly dropping his hand. “Sorry...”

 

Jim didn’t acknowledge his action with more than a raised brow. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Is there anything in particular you want?”

 

Oswald shook his head, “Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”

 

Jim nodded and started to leave, but Oswald felt like their encounter was incomplete somehow. “Jim, wait!”

 

The detective turned back to Oswald, waiting patiently for Oswald to speak. Oswald, himself, was at a bit of a loss at what to say. He promptly crossed the room over to Jim.

 

“I just...Thank you.” Jim was not that much taller than him, but Oswald still had to raise himself on his tiptoes in order to give Jim a quick peck on the cheek.

 

Jim didn’t say anything about the kiss, but as he was turning, Oswald caught a hint of a smile before he was completely out the door.

 

After Jim left, Oswald quickly dressed, changing back to the trousers he wore the day before, but he kept Jim’s white shirt on. He tossed his own shirt out - no matter how hard he tried to scrub the blood out, Oswald’s shirt was too ruined to be saved.

 

He attempted to spruce up his appearance. He was much too thin and bony compared to Jim, but there was not much he could do about that, so instead he put all his efforts into fixing his hair. After a couple minutes he gave up: just brushing it would have to do, since he didn’t have any of his hair product.

 

Oswald spent the next few moments just looking around Jim’s apartment. He didn’t get to really look the night before. He found himself standing in front of Jim’s bookcase, fingertips brushing over the spines of each book when he heard the door knob rattle.

 

Jim must have been back.

 

Oswald smiled, but before he had the chance to turn around and greet Jim, a gloved hand covered Oswald’s mouth and nose. He was struggling, kicking, and trying to break free from the unknown attacker’s strong hold as he was being dragged through Jim’s apartment. He was much too weak, Oswald knew this, the lack of eating from the past several weeks had diminished his strength. If he couldn’t escape, he knew he had to leave behind some kind of evidence for Jim to pick up on if his sudden disappearance didn’t raise any red flags.

 

So he started thrashing to the point where he was making a mess. His kicks were aimed at the items on Jim’s coffee table, scattering them onto the floor. He even managed to knock over a vase. He felt a bit guilty about ruining Jim’s apartment, but this was survival. He’d replace the vase if he got out of this alive.

 

“I know what you’re doing, little bird,” Nero whispered in his ear. Oswald shuddered at the feeling of the man’s breath on his ear. “I didn’t think I would have to do this, but you leave me no choice.”

 

Oswald didn’t want to know what Nero was referring to, but knew regardless that he was going to find out soon. Nero replaced his gloved hand with a dark cloth. Oswald fought not to breath in the fumes of the wet cloth, but it was too late - his eyes were already rolling back as he lost consciousness.

  


*****

 

His head is throbbing when Oswald came to, he tried to ignore the pain and figure out where he was exactly...Some abandoned dirty warehouse it would appear. Glancing up, he discovered that he was being suspended. His arms were stretched above his head, causing a searing pain from his injured shoulder. His wrists were bound together with rope tightly digging into his skin.

 

When he looked forward, he spotted Nero not far away, leaning back against the wooden chair he was sitting in, watching Oswald with dark eyes.

 

Oswald was unsettled by Nero’s stare, but refused to show any fear. “You’re making a very _big_ mistake!”

 

“How so?” Nero asked, standing. He inched over to where Oswald was. “Because the way I see it, I have every piece of the puzzle right in place.”

 

Nero reached out and grabbed Oswald by the hips, pulling him closer. “I have the King of Gotham!” He laughed as he let go suddenly, causing Oswald’s body to swing back and forth. “Well...former King of Gotham.”

 

“You kidnapped me from a cop’s home.” Oswald couldn’t believe the level of stupid he was dealing with. “Jim Gordon is going to come looking for me.”

 

Oswald winced at the loud laugh Nero barked out. “Jim Gordon is going to be glad I took you off his hands. He’ll be thanking me.”

 

Nero pulled out Oswald’s pocket knife from his own jacket, flicking the knife open.

 

It’s the same one Oswald had tried to use to defend himself during his first encounter with Nero. Oswald had ended up dropping the small knife onto the alleyway after Nero had stabbed him in the neck with a needle full of drugs. The same one Nero had used to leave a scar below Oswald’s collarbone.

 

“No one knows where you are...” Nero emphasized each word with a jab of the tip of the pocketknife’s blade to Oswald’s chest.

 

“Before I kill you and take your place as King of Gotham... I want you to tell me everything I need to know.”

 

“And if I don’t?” Oswald held up his head defiantly.

 

Nero paused before smiling wide. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to persuade you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize about the long wait for this chapter!!! I started school this month so I've been busy. Also I would like to thank thekeyholder for being amazing as always and betaing this! 
> 
> Final chapter!!! Hope you enjoy!

“ Oswald is missing.” Was the first thing out of Jim’s mouth when he entered the precinct.

 

Harvey barely spared him a glance, still focused on reading the casefile in front of him. Usually, Jim could handle his lackadaisical attitude and his nonchalance, but this time it was different. This was about Oswald.

 

Jim grabbed the folder in Harvey’s hands, earning a loud huff from the man. “Hey! I was reading that!”

 

“ Oswald is gone.” Jim repeated, “Nero took him.”

 

Harvey snatched the folder back, “How do you know he just didn’t run off? Ever think that? I like you, Jim, but spending twenty-four seven with you would even make me want to disappear for a bit.”

 

“ He was there this morning before I left. When I returned, Oswald was gone and the apartment was trashed. If you were there, Harvey, you would have come to the same conclusion. There was struggle. Oswald was kidnapped.”

 

“ Maybe this is his sick way to get your attention?” Harvey theorized, leaning back in his chair. “This whole thing could have been orchestrated by him in order to spend time with you. He stops making contact with you for a few weeks and you come running. Who's to say he didn’t hire someone to do that drive-by at his club?”

 

“ Oswald wouldn’t do that.”

 

“ You know what that snake is capable of, Jim!”

 

Jim did, but he shakes his head, “He wouldn’t do that  _ to me _ .”

 

Harvey groaned when he heard that. “That’s exactly why he would do it! I know you’ve seen the way he looks at you, Jim. He’s head over heels about you. He’s pulling the wool over your eyes, Jim! Painting himself to look like the victim, so you’ll come crawling to investigate.”

 

Jim knew that Harvey was simply trying to look after him, and any other time he might have actually considered what he was saying. He knew that Oswald was a master manipulator. He had seen what went down at the warehouse, the night before Oswald was crowned King of Gotham. It took one sentence. One suggestion from Oswald to completely unravel the makeshift alliance between Fish Mooney and Maroni.

 

Jim also knew what he saw too. The pure fear in Oswald’s eyes when he mentioned Nero. The nightmares. The panic attacks. There was no way Oswald could fake that. “You don’t know the full story.”

 

“ Enlighten me then.”

 

“ I can’t.” Jim said. He knew that Oswald would never forgive him if he revealed what had really happened between him and Nero to Harvey. “I know you don’t like him or trust him...But I promised Oswald I would protect him from Nero, Harvey. He was under my watch, and I let him get kidnapped.”

 

Of course, there was another reason why Jim’s heart had stopped and his blood ran cold when he saw the scene left at his apartment that had nothing to do with his civic duty as an officer of the law. A reason he wasn’t quite ready to tell Harvey about just yet.

 

“ It’s my job to get him back, and I need your help. You’re the only person I can trust on the force with this.”

 

It didn’t take much to put together that Nero had a cop on the payroll. No one should have known where Oswald was. Only a hand selected few would have known that Oswald was under police protection - under Jim’s protection. So, he had to assume that he couldn’t trust any of them, except for his partner.

 

“ You’re not going to stop pursuing this, are you?”

 

“ You know me.” Jim shook his head, “I can’t.”

 

Harvey groaned as he stood from his desk. “Alright. Fine. I’ll make a few calls, see if anyone heard anything.”

 

“ Thanks, Harv.” Jim sighed in relief; he had been worried that Harvey would flat out refuse to help.

 

“ Oh, and Jim?” Harvey stopped, holding his cell phone in his hand, looking back at Jim, “I’m not blind - I see the way you look at him when he’s not looking.”

 

Jim froze, dumbstruck, his mouth opened as he tried to form a response,a rebuttal, but Harvey just laughed and walked away before he got the chance to explain. It appeared, Jim thought, that he might have underestimated Harvey’s observation skills.

  
  


*****

 

Jim was pacing back and forth in front of his desk. His coffee had gone cold, left untouched and forgotten. Everyone in the precinct had been keeping their distance, other than Harvey, even the Captain had to close the blinds to her office’s window. Nobody wanted to deal with Jim in his agitated state. An hour had already passed and all their leads were exhausted. He was nowhere closer to finding Oswald, and he didn’t know how much time he had left. Jim tried to keep a barrier up in his mind, to shut out all the intrusive thoughts of what Oswald could possibly be experiencing right now. It was no use, though. He knew he was too close to this. His emotions were clouding his judgment. If it was anyone else, he would have kicked the person off the case.

 

“ Think I got something!”

 

Jim stopped in mid-pace and turned, curious to see what had got Harvey a touch out of breath. Harvey was dragging some low level criminal by the shirt collar through the bullpen.

 

“ Guess who this scumbag works for?” Harvey asked with a grin.

 

“ Nero?”

 

“ Bingo! I’ll put him in interrogation, see what he has to say.” Harvey let go of the criminal’s shirt, pushing him in the direction of one of the interrogation rooms.

 

Jim followed after Harvey; he felts like he was able to take a full breath again. He knew it was dangerous, letting his hopes up in case this lead didn’t pan out, but this could be his only chance to find Oswald.

 

Harvey waited by the door of the interrogation room, “I’ll let you take the honors.” He said, holding his hand towards the door like he was offering some gift.

 

Jim nodded his thanks, but before he was about to step into the room, Harvey stopped him. “Listen...I know you’re like...Penguin’s mobster wife now-”

 

“ Harvey!”

 

“ Just try not to kill him, alright?”

 

Jim frowned at that, but didn’t say anything as he pushed past Harvey into the room. The criminal sat in the chair behind the table, hands chained in the front. He was nothing special, just another petty crook in Gotham, except for the fact he could possibly lead Jim to Oswald.

 

“ Where’s Nero?” Usually he would start an interrogation with more finesse, slowly working his way to the big questions, but there was no time for games.

 

The criminal lifted his chained hands as far as they would go. “I don’t know, man. I’m only his driver.”

 

“ His driver? What do you mean?”

 

“ Just what I said, I’m his driver. He calls and I pick him up. He gives me an address, and I take him there. I keep my mouth shut, and don’t ask any questions, and I get another check instead of a knife in my neck.”

 

“ And what about today? Did you drive him anywhere today?”

 

The criminal looked uneasy at the inquiry. “Listen, my hands are tied here…” He looked down at his wrists, “Literally.”

 

Jim wasn’t amused, and the criminal quickly realized the sudden shift in the atmosphere and started to backtrack.

 

“ You know what, as a matter of fact I do remember driving him today.” He suddenly recalled, “It was  _ crazy _ ! I dropped him off at this apartment, right? He comes back with some dude slung over his shoulder. Who kidnaps someone in the middle of the day?! Crazy son of a bitch.”

 

Jim’s heart leapt at that, now they were getting somewhere. He stepped forward, “This man...what did he look like?”

 

“ I don’t know….White...Dark hair.” Nero’s driver shrugged. “Real thin...I mean, I didn’t get a good look at the guy, but he had to be with the way Nero carried him like he weighed nothing.”

 

“ What happened then? Where did you go next?”

 

“ Some creepy warehouse.” The criminal told him. “Nero told me that he’ll call when he’s all finished, so I didn’t stick around too long after that.”

 

“ This warehouse? You got an address?”

  
  


*****

 

As promised, the address led them to an abandoned warehouse. Jim was not sure what he was going to find when they broke down the door. He braced himself for the worse. His heart was pounding so loud, he could hear it echoing in his ears.

 

“ GCPD!”

 

With his gun raised, Jim kicked down the door. Harvey and him had split up, Harvey going around through the back entrance while Jim took the front, hoping to corner Nero if he was here. He stayed alert, moving cautiously through the warehouse, avoiding the broken glass littering the floor from the shattered windows.

 

Moments like these were always tough to face. Fear often got in the way, curling itself tightly around one’s chest, and refused to let go. Jim thought after being a cop for awhile he would get used to the feeling, but he discovered that it was still ever present, still as strong as the first time he’d experienced the sensation first day on the job. Only now he knew how to work alongside it.

 

He quickly scoped out the place: it appeared to be vacant except for the empty beer cans left by trespassers, scattered crates about, and old graffiti sprayed on the walls.

 

Jim’s hope of finding Oswald slowly began to dwindle with each passing second. He was almost ready to call it quits and start looking for a new lead to Oswald’s whereabouts when he heard a soft moan coming from a corner. He followed the noise which led him to a new section of the warehouse he hadn’t yet explored.

 

A part of him wanted to burst down the door, to run head first into the room, but he knew better than doing so. He was not sure what he’d find - it could be an ambush. Instead, he took a breath before he twisted the door handle and pushed the door open. Inside, he found a small backroom. It looked pretty much the same as the other rooms - just as filthy as the rest of the warehouse - but the other rooms were lacking a certain gangster.

 

Jim was horrified at the sight of Oswald. He was strung up by his wrists with his  head dangling, chin tucked against his chest in a manner that made Jim question whether the mobster was even alive. After crossing the room, he checked Oswald’s pulse, finding a low, but steady one. Jim let out a breath of pure relief. He was not sure what he would have done if he hadn’t found one at all.

 

“ Oswald.” Jim tried to stir the man back to consciousness as he worked on the tied rope. Up close, Jim could see bruises already beginning to form over his face. There was a trail of cuts leading down from his neck to his chest. The shirt he let Oswald borrow was all bloody, soaked completely through, and sticking to the man’s skin.

 

He repeatedly called the mobster’s name, finally getting the knot undone, and managed to catch Oswald before his knees hit the ground. “Oswald!”

 

Oswald’s eyes began to flicker back and forth beneath his eyelids, at last coming to. he blinked a couple of times before completely opening his eyes. “Jim...?”

 

“ I’m here.” Jim assured the gangster. “I’m right here. I’m going to get you out of here, alright? Where’s Nero?”

 

Jim didn’t waste any time waiting for an answer; he situated Oswald where his arm was draped over Jim’s shoulder and most of Oswald’s weight against him as he began to move. He was almost at the door when his feet tripped over some item. Nausea hit him full on when he realized what the item was: Oswald’s belt.

 

“ He didn’t...”

 

Jim was impressed. He knew the man was intelligent but  _ this _ , this was something else entirely. Oswald was beaten to a pulp and barely conscious, and still, his brain was working, figuring out why they had stopped and what had caused Jim’s discomfort. Oswald would have made a fine detective in another life.

 

“ Nothing happened.” Oswald informed him wearily as Jim started to walk again, dragging him along. “He was interrupted...by a phone call. Haven’t seen him since.”

 

Halfway to the exit, Jim heard a loud gunshot. His head jerked up at the noise, and looked around him to find the source of the shot. He realized it was coming from outside. Finding one of the many milk-crates, he lowered Oswald carefully to have a seat on one. He knew he needed to investigate the noise, but if the noise lead him to Nero, he couldn’t lead Oswald back into his enemy’s clutches either. He didn’t want to leave Oswald there all alone and defenseless, but he has to make sure Harvey was safe as well.

 

He cupped Oswald’s face, catching his attention. The man could barely keep his eyes open. “I’m going to go outside just for a second. I promise you, Oswald, I’ll be back...alright?”

 

Oswald leaned into the touch of his hand, whispering softly, “I knew you’d come for me.”

 

“ Always.” Jim pressed his lips lightly against Oswald’s forehead. “I’ll always come for you, Oswald.”

 

Jim let go of Oswald’s face, and pulled out his gun, raising it once more. Carrying Oswald forced him to return his sidearm back to his holster. He kept it eye-level as he pushed the door to the one of the exits open, and the cold air bit and was stinging. His eyes teared up at the bitterness of the wind hitting him directly in the face.

 

He found a crumpled form laying on the concrete next to the door. Harvey was passed out cold. Luckily, there weren’t any gunshot wounds. He turned his partner over, where he was facing him directly, and patted Harvey’s cheeks with some force, hoping to get a response. Harvey groaned, but didn’t open his eyes and that was all Jim needed. Harvey was probably going to feel like hell when he woke up, but he was still alive and that was all that mattered.

 

Still there was something off about this...Why did he hear a gunshot but there was no evidence that a gunfight took place. Looking around, there wasn’t a shell casing in sight. No sign of a gun going off in the first place. Unless….

 

Jim squeezed his eyes shut, realizing his mistake. The gunshot was merely a lure to get Jim outside the warehouse. Nero must have known they were coming. Oswald had mention him receiving a phone call, and Jim and Harvey had left the number one culprit who could have called Nero behind at the precinct. Jim thought the driver must have downplayed his role in Nero’s gang.

 

He rushed back inside, but it was too late.

 

Nero had one arm wrapped around Oswald, holding him in place with a knife at his throat.

 

“ Drop the knife!” Jim ordered, pointing his gun at Nero, but he knew he couldn’t fire it, not with the chance of missing and hitting Oswald.

 

This was the first time Jim got a decent look at the man. Nero looked like your everyday man in Gotham; he didn’t look much like a criminal if Jim was being honest. Except for his eyes. There was madness lurking under his dark eyes that unsettled Jim.

 

“ We were talking a lot about you earlier, Detective.” Nero leaned to the side, smiling, and Oswald winced at the knife digging a bit deeper in his neck. “We had a little bet going. Oswald, here, thought you were going to come and rescue him. But I was  _ certain _ that you wouldn’t waste your efforts on such a worthless endeavor.”

 

“ There’s no way out of this, Nero, backups are already on their way and should be here any second.”

 

“ I guess I was wrong.” He hissed in Oswald’s ear. “Maybe the Detective does care about you after all.”

 

Revulsion at the sight of Nero being so close to Oswald left a bitter taste in his mouth. Jim gritted his teeth, trying to keep his anger in check, and not to let his emotions get the best of him and cause him to make another mistake. Any more errors could cost Oswald’s life.

 

Nero watched Jim in silence before his eyes widen with a spark of recognition. He let out a high-pitched laugh. “Oh, this is just too good to be true. No wonder Oswald was so convinced of you coming, you’re in love with him.”

 

Jim’s shoulders stiffened, and he tensed at the admission being flung out in the air and the truth behind Nero’s words.

 

Oswald looked up sharply and caught Jim’s eyes, trying to figure out the validity of Nero’s statement. Jim had to look away. He knew that Oswald could tell that it was true, and with that they had a lot to discuss if they both made it out of there alive.

 

“ I bet he wouldn’t be if he knew what I did to you, huh, Oswald? Would the Detective even still want you? You’ve been all used up...you’re ruined now, remember?”

 

Jim felt sick to his stomach at the poison Nero was whispering to Oswald, and it took all his might not to pull the trigger. “Let him go, Nero.”

 

“ Hmm, I don’t think I will, Detective. Might have another go.” Nero ran his free hand down Oswald’s chest, loosening his grip on Oswald.

 

Oswald didn’t waste any second at this opportunity. He elbowed Nero in the rib cage, knocking the breath out of him. The knife at Oswald’s throat dropped. Oswald was quick despite his injuries; before Jim can even blink, Oswald has the knife in his hand and spinned around, plunging it into the side of Nero’s neck.

 

Nero collapsed behind Oswald, clutching his throat. Jim was too stunned to speak, all he could do was try to process what had just happened. Oswald had his back to him, his shoulders rapidly rising and falling  was a dead giveaway that Oswald was breathing too fast while he watched Nero bleed out in front of him.

 

As Nero gave out one more shaky breath before he completely stopped breathing for good, Oswald turned around and faced Jim, his expression hard, daring Jim to lecture him about his actions.

 

Jim didn’t.

 

After a while, Oswald’s hardened resolve started to crumble, his eyebrows tugged together, his face pained, and for a moment Jim wondered if he was about to break down crying. Oswald stumbled forward and Jim caught him easily. Jim held Oswald close, wrapping his arms around the trembling man. As soon as he was in Jim’s arms, Oswald buried his face into Jim’s shoulder, thin pale fingers curling up and clutching at the material of Jim’s jacket. Jim heard Oswald let out a soft noise, a shaky breath, before the sobs came.

 

“ Ssh, it’s okay.” Jim assured Oswald, holding the back of his head, “I got you.”

 

Suddenly, Oswald pulled away, and before Jim could pursue the reason why, Oswald was kissing him. It was too fast and full of desperation. Oswald was kissing him like Jim was going to disappear right before his eyes. Jim knew that it was from that day’s events, Oswald’s adrenaline was racing, it was pouring out of him, coloring all his actions.

 

Jim grabbed Oswald’s hand, dragging his thumb over his knuckles. He moved his lips against Oswald’s slower, swallowing his feverish energy. Oswald let out a soft sigh, letting his eyes flutter shut, and Jim could feel Oswald relax against him.

 

They were both too caught up in one another to pay attention to the warehouse door creaking open.

 

“ _ Holy shit! I knew it _ !”

 

Both Oswald and Jim froze and looked around at the voice. Harvey was rubbing the back of his head with one hand and grinning wide at the sight of them together.

 

Oswald began to step away, but Jim’s fingers tightened around his hand. He could feel Oswald staring at him in shock, but Jim ignored this and asked Harvey, “You called this in yet?”

 

Harvey’s grin became even bigger, “What? You locking lips with a criminal?”

 

“ I meant the crime scene, Harvey. We’re going to need an EMT. Oswald needs to go to the hospital.”

 

“ What about me? Don’t I get a kiss? I did get hurt too, you know!”

 

“ Harvey...”

 

Harvey threw his hands up, “Alright, alright, I’ll call it in.”

 

*****

 

The hospital admitted Oswald. Jim worried that maybe Nero had done more lasting damage than Jim had originally thought since most of Oswald’s cuts were only surface wounds. Jim had to flash his badge in order for the hospital staff to explain why they’d admitted Oswald. It turned out that he was severely dehydrated, and they wanted to keep him overnight to get his fluids back up.

 

Oswald’s eyes were shut when Jim first entered his room. He pulled up one of the chairs next to the hospital bed. He settled in, knowing that it was probably going to be a long night. Jim was not sure how long he’d been sitting there, he was almost caving to the temptation of sleep himself, when Oswald stirred.

 

“ Hey,” Jim straightened up in his seat, “how are you feeling?”

 

Oswald winced as he moved to sit up. While Nero might not have left any permanent damage this time, Jim knew that Oswald was still in pain.

 

“ Better.” Oswald tiredly answered. “How long have you been here?”

 

“ Not long.” Jim lied.

 

Oswald gave a small smile. “Liar.”

 

Jim let out a snort before the room fell quiet again. The only sounds present were the low beeping from one of the monitors and Jim’s heart. His heart was beating so loud he was afraid Oswald was able to hear it. He hadn’t been this nervous around someone in a very long time. He knew that ever since Nero had called out Jim on his feelings the atmosphere had changed - there was a new tension lingering between them.

 

Jim was not sure how Oswald was going to react to this new piece of information.

 

The weight of it all got to him, causing him to break the silence. “Listen, about what Nero said back at the warehouse….”

 

“ Is it true?” Oswald quietly asked, watching Jim with piercing eyes.

 

Jim was unable to look away this time. He knew better than to lie to him; Oswald could spot a lie faster than humanly possible, especially when it came to Jim. His ability to speak was gone momentarily, his words turning into sludge, and he found it hard to get the words out, so he merely nodded.

 

Jim knew he’d always had feelings for the mobster. Feelings that he’d buried deep down, locked away in a box that he tried so hard to ignore. He couldn’t deny the way his heart would race every time Oswald would look at him. How there always seemed to be a heavy ache in his chest whenever he left Oswald - especially after seeing a hurt expression from Jim’s attempt at putting distance between them.

 

It wasn’t until recently he realized just how strong they were.

 

Oswald didn’t say anything, like he was having trouble grasping the whole situation. “B-But you’re a cop and I’m...I’m a criminal-”

 

He cut it off when Jim took his hand. Jim heard a small intake of breath at the gesture.

 

“ I know.”

 

“ How are you fine with this?”

 

“ I shouldn’t be.” Jim admitted, “but I care about you, Oswald. A lot more than I should.”

 

Oswald swallowed loudly; he was staring at Jim wide-eyed, a smile starting to form as he took in Jim’s words. Jim felt Oswald squeeze his fingers before a dark look crossed over the younger man’s face, and he quickly dropped Jim’s hand, like it burnt him.

 

“ This.” Oswald began, voice breaking, “This is a mistake.”

 

Jim’s face dropped he had endured a lot over the years, all kinds of different pain from being a cop, being a soldier, but Oswald rejecting him easily took the number one spot of being the most painful.

 

“ Oswald-”

 

The mobster held out his hand, stopping Jim, “There’s no fixing me, Jim. I’m never going to change.”

 

“ And I’ve come to terms with that.” Jim tried to argue, not sure where all this was coming from.

 

“ Have you? Have you really, Detective?” Oswald asked sharply, but there was pain behind his eyes. “I’m a criminal...You s-shouldn’t be with someone like me. You deserve better, you deserve someone who isn’t-”

 

Oswald swallowed thickly, unable to finish the sentence out loud.

 

Jim paused, trying to figure out what caused this sudden change. “Oswald...What were you going to say? Someone who isn’t…?”

 

Oswald rolled his eyes, looking away, but Jim could see tears threatening to spill over - clearly he was just as upset about this as Jim was, despite the way he spoke.

 

“ Nero was right about me.” Oswald finally said, eyes squeezed shut.

 

Apprehension began to dawn on Jim, recalling Nero’s words from earlier: _ “You’ve been all used up...you’re ruined now remember?” _

 

It had nothing to do with Oswald not wanting Jim. He understood why Oswald was acting like this. “Oswald-”

 

But Oswald didn’t let him speak, a shuddering sob escapes while he continues, “I’m...I’m r-ruined and y-you need someone that’s not.”

 

He felt foolish, not realizing the impact Nero’s words would have on Oswald. Of course he would feel like this.

 

Jim grabbed Oswald’s hand and raised it to his lips, kissing his knuckles. Immediately, Oswald went quiet. He took his time giving featherlight kisses to each knuckle. He knew what these hands were capable of - what destruction, violence, and bloodshed they had caused in the past, but he didn’t care.

 

“ You are  _ not _ ruined.” Jim lifted his gaze at the man, lips still hovering over his hand. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

 

Jim pulled away, dropping Oswald’s hand, and standing up. “I’m not going to force you into anything. Say the word and I’ll go. Tell me to stay and I will.”

 

He turned around; he knew that Oswald was in a fragile and vulnerable state. Either Oswald wanted him or he didn’t, and if he didn’t, Jim had to respect Oswald’s decision. But as he walked away, he was praying that Oswald would tell him to stay. Now that Jim had crossed the line that he’d drawn to keep Oswald out, he didn’t want to return to the other side. He didn’t want this thing between them to be over. He was not sure he could take it if they went back to the way things were before Oswald had kissed him the other day.

 

“ Stay.” Oswald called out right before he reached the door. “Please...stay.”

 

So Jim stayed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sticking with this story!!!


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